Save Me
by Lora Helen
Summary: Legolas knew he was fading. Unrequited love hurts more than anything else. But if the love was in fact returned? could he be Saved? COMPLETE
1. A heart of Pain

_Not mine, I swear, I don't own the characters merely the plot.. If you can call it that.._

_Ok, this is my FIRST Lotr Fanfic, until this point I have only ever written Gundam wing, so this could be totally way off, I have tried many time to write something like this, and have finally found a draft and an idea that I am pleased with. I'm sure that it is highly Out Of Character, but it seemed good at the time. Please tell me how I can improve.._

_It is set after book or movie three, at the end of the series either way, so I wouldn't advise reading it if you don't want to know some stuff that happens, spoilers? Hell yeah.. Also I feel I should mention the fact that some things are wrong, I know some of the characters I use are already gone, or are leaving, and that some may not be where they should be, this is artistic licence, and I'm sorry if it causes confusion/ . Well, I guess I should probably warn you of the fact this is Yaoi. As in two guys have fallen in love.. If you think this is wrong then don't be an idiot and read it, or even pretend you have read it and leave a flame because no one will care, I feed flames to my dogs, gives them gas but I can live with the smell._

_Its Aragorn + Legolas, well, sort of, its kinda angsty I guess, and I need some help on the eventual out come, if you want me to continue, cuz well, I'm only posting this cuz I don't know whether I should write any more of it.. If I should then do you want the happily ever after ending or the real tear jerker, either is good. I know it seems that I am planning to write an Aragorn Arwen, but I assure you I am not, Arwen is not bitchy in this either.. So if you really hate Arwen, like some ppl do, then this may not be for you. But you could still give it a shot._

_A review would really be appreciated, but I'm in this more for the writing than anything else, so review if you like, comments are noted and put to good use._

_That's about all I think, umm, on with the story. I really hope you like it._

With an audible sigh, and a hand pressed against his heart, Legolas, prince of Mirk Wood, stepped under the leafy canopy that was his home.

"Mirk Wood. I have returned, one final time." It came out as a sigh more than anything.

He had been away. Acting as the Mirk Wood Elves representative at the wedding of the King of Gondor, the one time Ranger Aragorn and the Evenstar of the elves. The fair lady Arwen. She had given up her immortality to spend a mortal life as the Queen of Gondor and wife to an acclaimed hero.

With another sigh the blonde elf stopped and cast his eyes around him.

He had walked a fair way into the wood now, and at one time, when the race of elves was flourishing, the boughs of the trees would have been filled with his people welcoming him home, but no more.. His people, his fathers people, were leaving Middle Earth, crossing the sea to the Undying lands. And once he returned from the ceremony, he, his father and the remainder of his family would be joining them. Leaving the care of middle earth to the race of men, strengthened now by the presence of a King on the Gondorian throne.

The same was true for Galadriel and Celeborn, they had returned from the wedding only to join the remains of the elves of Lothlorien on this final journey.

Slowly, almost painfully, Legolas lowered himself to the ground, resting his back up against the rough trunk of one of the ancient trees.

Once again he looked around him, and as the knot that was already present in his chest tightened, he realised ho much he was leaving behind him. He would never see these woods again, never run beneath the boughs and the lush green canopy in summer, nor flit between the great trunks, stark against the winters brilliant white blanket. Never again would he sit for hours, surrounded by the dryad spirits of the trees, feeling as much as hearing the windy whispering.

Without the elves nothing would prevent Men using the forest as lumber and firewood. The thought brought great regret to the princes heart.

But not so much as the thought that he would not live to see the Undying lands either.

Elves are immortals, untouched by illness and only marginally by hunger and thirst, for they can survive off the gifts that nature provides, they can live forever, but an elf can be killed by a knife or arrow to the heart, or by the simple and almost common place emotion of grief. And that was the sickness that plagued the prince.

He might, Legolas reasoned with himself, as he negligently shredded a fallen leaf, have been alright, had his father not insisted that he be the one to attend the joyous wedding celebration, but since he knew both the bride and groom he had been the obvious choice. And thus, unwilling but also unable to go against his fathers will, Legolas had attended, and endured watching the one he loved with all his heart and soul, being joined in love with another.

That had been his undoing.

Had he not witnessed it for himself he could have left Middle Earth, deluding himself that his love had been returned, yes it would have been painful, but no where near as bad as knowing that your love was all in vein, the many whispered endearments that had been exchanged had been empty, and the nights lying together, after the throws of passion had run their course had been false and merely to vent feelings.

That the words of love that had been spoken before each battle had had no meaning other than to ensure comfort could be found after the tiring and horrific efforts were over.

It had cut Legolas deeply to see Aragorn deny all that he had told him to be true with two simple words. 'I Do.'

So deeply had the cut gone, that Legolas could feel the wound. It wasn't a pain so much as the feeling that a hole had formed inside him and was slowly draining him away. Soon he knew he wouldn't care where he was if anyone was talking to him, or even whose company he was in. Laughter would have no presence in his life and nor would tears, no emotions at all. He would lose everything that caused him to be alive. And when it was all gone. He would die.

He didn't expect death to hurt, betrayal hurt much more, for although the wound itself hurt no longer, the knife was still embedded in his chest, and every so often, when his mind wandered to a familiar rugged face, the knife would be given a sharp twist. No, death couldn't hurt as much as the knowledge that all he had shared with the man he had dared to call his lover had been a lie.

Death may even prove to be a reprieve.

All that remained for Legolas now was to send his father on his way without him, for Legolas had no wish to die in a boat or on a strange land. He wished to die in the beautiful summer green woods that had been his place of birth, his home and in his thoughts when he was far away.

With a great deal of pride had he shown these woods to Gimli, and indeed Aragorn, and had then, as agreed, and with Aragorns insistence, followed the dwarf into the caves and mines that were his love..

When he had returned he had expected Aragorn to be there to welcome him, as he had promised, but had found Rivendell empty. Bereft of elf and human alike.

With a sense of foreboding had he made his way home, to Mirk Wood, and been told by his father of the soon to be joining of Aragorn, King of Gondor, and the lady Arwen.

He had wept, it was true, but in his heart of hearts he had believed the news to be false, Aragorn had sworn his love to him, and he was sure that it would not be retracted without an explanation, if at all.

And so he and his family had readied themselves to cross the sea, with determination and a little regret on Legolas' part.

But Legolas could no longer deny the truth of the matter when the invitation had arrived, and it had been decreed that Legolas, as Aragorns comrade in arms should attend.

And that had left Legolas in his current situation, leaning against a tree silently weeping.

"Ah, this will never do." Legolas mumbled to himself as he pulled his lithe form to its feet and wiping the tears from his eyes. (You brought this on yourself anyway.) He silently reprimanded himself as he brushed down his clothing (You knew he was to be King. And just what good are you to a King anyway?)

Legolas forced himself to walk along the forest avenue that led to the Woodland fort.

"Indeed," he murmured as he looked around him. (What use could you have been to him other than the comfort you provided. You are not of his race..)

provided a small voice in the back of his mind. Legolas quelled it with a graceful wave of his slender ivory hand.

"Nay." He murmured again. ( But Arwen at least is female and can provide him with an heir, his race is failing as my own diminishes, but with a strong king, and the line of Isildur back on the throne they shall prosper once more, but the line must continue.)

As he reached the fort Legolas was sure at last where he stood. (You could never give him an heir. You were his for a while, you offered him what you could, comfort through his troubles, and a shoulder to lean on. You helped him. Be satisfied, not vengeful.)

"I am." Legolas assured himself as he stepped towards the door. "I could never bear him enmity anyway. I am happy to have been considered his friend."

the little voice sighed sadly as he stepped into the structure among the trees that had been his home.

(I accept my fate, grief has claimed my heart as surely as if it were Aragorn him self. I was a fool to believe it could last, I was a fool and I shall pay the price, but I pay it willingly because a life without him would be a life without love, I do not regret a single moment that we shared together, and each one I shall hold in my heart always. Even as my spirit dances with those of the trees, my love shall live on. And one day my spirit may meet once again with his.)

_Ok, that was chapter one. If you liked it please let me know so that I can carry on writing, but if you think I am embarrassing myself by posting this please let me know as well, I will appreciate the honesty._

_See you soon I hope._

_Lora Helen_


	2. Moon Longing

Ok. I'm bad, I admit it. You all have permission to hurt me if you wish. But please, spare my fingers, I can't type if you hurt the fingers. I know it has been FOREVER since I posted this story, and I am sorry, but to be totally honest, I never thought anyone would read it.. But you did. I thus I have fought and battled with a second chapter, and finally I am happy with it. I really hope you all like it as well. I couldn't believe that you ALL wanted a happy ending! Specially when the only ending I had planned was anything but.. but fear not... I now have six chapters either planned or half written and I THINK I may finally know what I am doing.  
  
I honestly never intended to carry this fic on, but well, 18 reviews is too many to ignore, and thus I would like to thank you all for your reviews...  
  
I would normally write you each a little thank you note, but I am unable to do so now, as it is late and I am very tired, yet determined to post.  
  
I hope you enjoy.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Aragorn was restless. Beside him, between the satin sheets, his wife and queen of three weeks slept. For him however, sleep would not come.  
  
With a sigh he roused himself from the bed, pulled on a robe and walked over to the window.  
  
The moon was bright and beautiful.  
  
(His hair always looked lovely in the moonlight, and he always seemed to glow..)  
  
He shook his head; trying to clear the clouds of pain and sadness that memory had caused to well up in him.  
  
He turned from the window and let his eyes rest on his wife.  
  
True, it was as everyone said, she was beautiful, you would have to have been insane not to see it. Her face was alive even as she slept, and her hair was as dark and glowing as the finest mahogany, and he knew that he cared for her greatly. Yet, in his heart of hearts he knew he could never do her justice.  
  
With a light growl he strode to the door, opened it and left.  
  
He could never love her as unconditionally as she loved him. For whether he meant to or not he was always comparing her to someone else.  
  
Noting the differences in the way they walked, talked, laughed and smiled.  
  
Comparing her elegant dark hair and eyes to his lighter and more sunny ones.  
  
Comparing the desperation with which she clung to and kissed him, filled still with the worry he would leave her, to the tender softness that had been the nights he had spent on his quest with his blonde haired lover.  
  
Comparing her open declarations of love to the quiet, almost coy endearments that had come from the other.  
  
Comparing the prince of Mirkwood to his wife. And each time it was not his wife who came out on top.  
  
He came to a stop out in the grounds, by a large pond of crystal clear water.  
  
He sighed. He had loved her once, he was sure of it, and that's why he had taken her as his Queen. He had thought his feelings for Legolas had been nothing more or less than the desire for care and comfort in troubled times, superficial so to speak, convenient.  
  
But now he knew better.  
  
He could remember every detail of the perfect face. The gracefully arched eyebrows, the eyes, large and liquid, they seemed to shift colour with the princes moods. The delicate nose that at one point he had loved to kiss, just so he could watch the way it wrinkled, the lips, he could remember them in the most detail. A rosy pink, not to large, but not thin either, perfect. Soft as velvet, smooth as silk, with thin lines running down them as water does a fall.  
  
All these were memories that Aragorn would hold with him for ever. But sometimes memories were futile reminders of a future that could never have been.  
  
Aragorn shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.  
  
It could never have been. He knew that. He couldn't have brought the lovely elf to Gondor with him, it had been hard enough to convince the people to accept Arwen, imagine how hard it would have been to accept a male elf, that aside, his linage must continue.  
  
Aragorn himself didn't care if he never had children. If he could have stayed with the blonde elf he wouldn't have cared one bit. But the fact that he was a King threw a whole new perspective on the matter. The throne must have an heir, no matter what the King himself felt. Even if the King had never asked to be King.  
  
He looked around him.  
  
A castle, gardens, flowers, trees and Walls..  
  
He hated the walls. He was used to the life of a Ranger, going where he pleased when he pleased, now he may have well been on a leash or chained to a pillar, he couldn't go anywhere without an armed escort, and it did NOT agree with him.  
  
With a sigh, his mind for what seemed like the hundredth time ran over the memory that caused the occasional pangs in his heart to become a flooded river of guilt, pain, and sadness.  
  
*~#=#=~*Flashback*~=#=#~*  
  
"I do." Aragorn intoned solemnly. At last the final speech of the service was completed and Aragorn place a chaste kiss on the lips of his new wife.  
  
As they walked back down between the rows of guests, her arm through his, he had allowed his eyes to ghost over the congregation.  
  
Dwarves, men, elves, hobbits, all had gathered to see the occasion, there were reputedly a small collection of Ents waiting on the edge of a nearby forest as well..  
  
His eyes fell on a head of blonde hair that out shone all others by far.  
  
(Legolas.) His mind supplied.  
  
He let his eyes ghost down to that much beloved face, expecting to maybe see a little regret, but at least some of the strength he had shown during the quest of the ring, and the understanding that what he was doing was necessary. But what he saw stilled his breathing and almost stilled his heart.  
  
The beautiful eyes were clouded with pain, and there was, within them, the most unbearable essence of betrayal, another look showed tears running in small rivers down the ivory cheeks.  
  
As he and his new bride walked past the row the elf sat in, Aragorn saw Legolas lift a hand and place it over his heart and bow his head as his shoulders began to shake.  
  
There were tears in many an eye, but none of them held the profound pain that was in the tears of the blonde prince.  
  
Aragorn realised, now that it was too late to change anything, that it had been his unthinking actions that had put that pain there. He hadn't explained a thing to the elf, it would have seemed to the world as if he had been using him.. and that must have been how Legolas felt as well. Aragorn scowled, Why hadn't he taken the time to explain the situation.. Because he had been a coward, that was why.. Because he had feared that had he looked into those eyes but once more he would never have been able to stop.  
  
~*~  
  
He had not seen Legolas for very long after the ceremony. The Prince had presented himself to the 'Happy Couple' once, and had, with a smile Aragorn could see through in the blink of an eye, told them that they were perfect for each other, and after embracing Arwen, had informed her that she looked radiant.  
  
He had then been seen talking with another group, elves mainly but also a couple of Hobbits, and once sitting on his own under a tree, eyes once again a mask of pain. When Aragorn had approached him the pain had intensified and Legolas had, in a flash of blonde hair, vanished into the darkening night.  
  
*~#=#=~*End Flashback*~=#=#~*  
  
That had been the last time Aragorn had seen the elf as he had never returned to the party. Aragorn presumed that he had returned home, and would now be, as all his kind were, making his way to the Undying lands.  
  
Aragorn had however met with a couple of his other companions from the Quest, well, the hobbits and Gimli anyway, but all of them had behaved strangely towards him, coldly almost, at the time he had thought they were just uncomfortable with him because of his new position. Now he realised, they must have seen what he had done to Legolas, who had been a friend to them as well.  
  
The hobbits had been almost silent; answering in one or two words if at all and Gimli had roughly congratulated him and then ignored him for the rest of the celebration.  
  
How he wished he could change the past.  
  
But it was too late for wishes. Legolas had left Middle earth forever. Aragorn wished that he could have had the chance to say goodbye.  
  
He also wished, more profoundly tonight that ever before that he had had the chance to explain his actions, Legolas hadn't deserved to be simply thrown aside, he had deserved more.. So much more.. More than Aragorn could ever have hoped to give him.  
  
With a final longing look at the moon which reminded him so much of the love he had been forced, by his devotion to duty to ignore, the love that still live on in his heart, he walked back into the castle that had become his prison.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Well, I really hope that that was worth waiting for.. I will, I hope, see you in chapter three, which is all ready and written. 


	3. Flight for the King

Oh my God!! Am I really alive??! Yes.. And I am also really sorry that I have been SO long updating.. I DID have the chapter written.. But.. Well.. Things have been odd and stuff took longer than usual.. Still.. Enough of that.  
  
Still, once again I got 18 reviews for the babble I dare to call a story, and I was, to say the least, highly surprised! Once again, my dear readers you have amazed me into writing..  
  
Also, I apologise for being lazy, but I really don't have the time to write up that many thank you notes, though, my fantastic reviewers, you do deserve it. And I am very sorry. So, here's a thanks you to..  
  
Yami Meji no Minaraikou, ~Hikari~Silver, Luni Seda, Banshee0, Lilyoda, MJLuvsPolar, Gackt no Hime, Peeps Inferior, eeeeeee, Starlit Hope, Crystal Snowflakes, Sly-chan, Ashen Skies, LadyDragonWolfKnight, *Nicole  
  
In this chapter we are back to Legolas' point of view,  
  
What I shall do is stop my useless natters now and let you finally read the third instalment of Save Me. Long awaited and hopefully not too disappointing.  
  
~*~  
  
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~*~  
  
"Father. It is of no matter any longer. I shall not accompany you to the Undying lands."  
  
King Thranduils head fell into his hands.  
  
"My Son. Please," He said in a voice choked with despair, and confusion. "Reconsider this notion. You have no reason to remain here. All our people are leaving, why can you possibly wish to remain behind?"  
  
"I have my reasons father. I would not embark on something such as this unless I had proof that it was not folly." Legolas replied, fixing his eyes on a bird singing on a tree branch outside the fort rather than the pain- filled eyes of his father.  
  
"Prey my son," Thranduil questioned. "What is this reason that makes you wish to leave the presence of your kin? Did your time away from us turn your head and heart? Do you no feel you are one of us?"  
  
Legolas sighed as they had begun a much-repeated cycle yet again.  
  
"I shall not say in front of any but you father. There are many here who do not need to know of what has befallen me. But I say once more. I know myself to be one of you. My quest did not turn my head. I am the same person now, here before you, as I was when I left to journey to Rivendell and the council, it is not my person that has been altered.. "  
  
At last Legolas seemed to have gotten his desire for privacy across to his distraught father.  
  
A wave of the kings had sent the remaining elves who had gathered to welcome the prince home, scurrying away.  
  
Once they had all departed the Elven King turned to his son.  
  
"Now my son, tell me why you wish to remain, for my ears long to hear the reason in this seeming madness."  
  
Legolas took a breath and starred into the face of his father.  
  
"Because, Father. I shall not live to see the Undying lands even if we were to leave this day. I do not wish my life to end in a ship or on some lonely shore that my eyes have never once in my life rested upon. I wish to end my days with the trees that have known me throughout their long lives, and the spirits to whom I have listened and been lulled to sleep by their soft voices. Do not deny me this wish Father and do not doubt my words. My life has drawn to its time of conclusion. It shall not carry me any further."  
  
The Kings face was stricken and he had a hand pressed across his heart as he starred in horror at the calm face of his son. Any further words stilled in his throat.  
  
"Dieing Legolas?" He managed at last, in a weak voice. "Why say you this.. We are immortal.. Invulnerable.. Upon my word my son we can not die, we stand apart from the mortals of Middle Earth!"  
  
"Tis not so father. We are not invulnerable to all.. Not to grief. I have been betrayed Father, by one I loved, they have.. Moved on to another and the wound is too great to heal. It is possible that I should have lived had they but thought enough of me to tell me in person that they did not return the love that I had pledged quite openly unto them, but they did not. They never, I am afraid to say, held me in high enough regard."  
  
Legolas paused and took a breath, composing himself once more to continue.  
  
"I know that the time has now arrived when we shall part ways Father, but I am unafraid. T'would do me no justice to cower in the face of that which I have seen so much of in this past year. I had thought that maybe I could heal this wound in time, but too much of that has passed and no improvement have I seen, so Father, I wish to end my days as I choose. I have been proud to live under your rule Father, to live as your son. Allow me my last request. Leave me behind when you depart to cross the sea."  
  
There were tears in the eyes of both prince and King as Legolas finished his speech.  
  
The King rose and enfolded his son in an embrace. "You do your race proud my son. You do me proud. But tell me one thing, for I shall not rest I fear till I know. Who is it that has so captured your heart my son?"  
  
"The Gondorian King Father. Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. But please, Father, do not seek vengeance, for it is by my own fault that things have turned out such. Had I not misplaced my heart I would not be as I am."  
  
The King swore it would be so, that he would not react to this horrific news.  
  
That night, Father and Son wept together for that which had been lost, and that which would never be regained.  
  
~*~  
  
A Week has passed.  
  
(Causing this evening to coincide with the one Aragorn spent thinking of the moon; it is three weeks since the wedding.)  
  
~*~  
  
Standing on the edge of Mirkwood, Legolas watched, with a growing emptiness inside him, his fathers entourage leave.  
  
The Prince had however, not been left alone.  
  
His own attendant, an older elf with dark brown hair and forest green eyes had remained at his side, as had his daughter, who looked nothing like him. Her light brown eyes and fair hair had evidently come from the mother she had lost in an Orc attack some years before. There names were Celithramir and his daughter Eylien.  
  
Celithramir knew of the circumstances of the Princes refusal to leave, and he had refused to desert his master and Prince, who he had looked after and tended for since he was incredibly young, his daughter, despite pleas from aunts and cousins had remained also, not wishing to leave her fathers side.  
  
They had been left with a moderate sized elven boat, both so that they could join their kind across the sea once their task in their homeland was complete, and also in the hope that Legolas may alter his choice and his fate and opt to leave and rejoin his kin.  
  
The sky was turning a dusky orange and Celithramir stood with his hand on his Princes shoulder as the grieving elf watched his father and the remainder of his people vanish into the sunset.  
  
His heart ached with longing to follow them, but also with the longing to make them stay with him. He didn't want them to leave him and forsake their wood to the humans, but it had been inevitable. The reign of the elves was over and he had to be strong.  
  
His time in the world was over and there was no longer anything he could do to prevent it. The one man who could save him was sitting on the throne of Gondor happily married and most likely deciding on the number of children he would have.  
  
Legolas pushed the bleak thought out of his mind and closed his eyes as the last rays of the setting sun sank below the horizon, and his father and all his people finally faded from view.  
  
"Peace father." He murmured. "Peace and a safe journey. Hold me in your heart and my life shall not have been in vain."  
  
"Come." Celithramir said shortly, a while later. Pulling on the princes arm. "It will not do for you to remain, if you keep your mind on other things and away from these dark and sore thoughts you may not leave us. I myself have lost a wife and I am still living. Maybe you can do the same. There is no need for you to fade, you can journey with my daughter and I. We shall take you with us. Your love is not dead. He may return."  
  
Legolas turned sad eyes on his friend. "Oh if only he were dead." He sighed, "That way I would know at least that he had not willingly left and slighted me. I do not mean to belittle your pain my friend, only say that this is pain of a different sort. My pain and grief stem from the fact that all we shared was an untruth.. That all he ever told me was a lie."  
  
He cast saddened eyes around him and pressed a hand over his heart, the pain of his grief rising once more with the flood of memories. With regretful sigh he shook his head and spoke again.  
  
"If he had but been able to tell me of his need to marry, for I do understand it, I should, most likely have still been well, but as it is he gave me no explanation, no reason at all and no news as to whether or not I still hold any place in his heart. Besides. If I am honest, I do not wish to go on alone."  
  
"But surely sire, you could find another? This love that you say was there can be nothing but a falsity if he can discard you with such ease."  
  
"Nay." Legolas shook his elegant head, causing his blond hair to flutter on the light breeze. "No one could take his place. The love, at least on my part, was as true as it could have been, and I will love him ere after. Even if I know that the hope of love in return is a futile one. Though he has discarded me I shall not discard him, my heart is his and his alone. I can not take it back, for whether knowingly or not, he has taken it, locked it in a chest and thrown the key far out of the reach of any who would dare search for it."  
  
With a sigh the older elf led the grieving prince back to the fort. He could see from the lost look in the princes eyes that he did indeed have little time remaining. The journey back from Gondor on foot, for he had left suddenly and without a horse and his continual dwelling on the haunting thoughts of Aragorn, both in times of sleep and wakefulness had weakened his resistance significantly, and shortened greatly the span that his life may have held out.  
  
He had watched his people leave, and had not shed a single tear.  
  
~*~  
  
That night, his daughter shaking his shoulder awoke Celithramir from his peaceful slumber.  
  
"Father." She said urgently as he stirred. "The Prince. I do not know what to do!"  
  
In an instant Celithramir was up, pulling his robes from the hook where they hung and pulling them on. Minutes later he was in running toward the princes chamber.  
  
Legolas' face was sheet white when Celithramir entered, and his blue eyes were rolled back in his head, his breathing was laboured and he was crying out to the one he loved to help him.  
  
The lean body twitched occasionally as it fought the sickness that assailed it for control, the sickness that had no cure. The sickness known as Grief.  
  
Celithramir turned to his daughter. "Eylien." He said in a gentle, yet firm tone. "Ready yourself quickly my child for you must leave. Ride to Gondor. The King must know of this. Be fleet of foot my child; Gondor is not so far when you take a horse. I will look after the Prince.. He does not have much time left, maybe one week hence, ten days at the very most, but that I fear is too much to hope for. Bring the King to him if you can. The King can save him. He is the only one.. The princes only hope.. Hold no prejudice in you're heart upon commencement of your meeting with him. I do not believe that our Prince could ever come to love a monster. Now Be Gone child! Fly!"  
  
Eylien spun to her feet and scant minutes later was urging a lithe dappled grey mare through the forest and toward Gondor.  
  
"Elbereth, Luthien." She breathed quietly. "Please let me make it in time, please let the King journey back with me. Please let me save him. For loves sake let me save him.."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Okay. and there this chapter ends..  
  
I hope it was worth waiting for, I really do!  
  
As with last time the next chapter is written, it just needs reading through a couple more times. Hopefully it will be ready before the end of the week, and I will try and have it up by Sunday.  
  
Leave a review if you want, they are always nice to read, but no pressure!  
  
And Hiya Emms! I KNOW you are reading this! *Grins* 


	4. A ray of hope

A/n.  
  
*Looks very-much shamefaced*  
  
I am SO sorry.... I have just had so much to do... That is really not an excuse I know, but I swear I will try and be more.... Prompt from now on, I haven't written in so long.... I really hope that this chapter isn't too bad....  
  
Either way, here is one ENORMOUS THANKYOU! To all those who reviewed, you are all fantastic! And, well, I felt so guilty after getting all your reviews that I worked extra hard on this.... And have now also nearly finished writing the story...  
  
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Aragorn was pacing his study.  
  
He was restless. It had been three days since his night time walk to the pond. He didn't know whether it was lack of sleep making him twitchy or something else. But there was an ill feeling in the air today.  
  
As he sat, despondently rolling a sealed jar of ink from one hand to the other, there was a knock on the door.  
  
"Enter." Aragorn said, in a bored sounding voice.  
  
"Sire." It was a liveried servant that stood before him. The man bowed. "You have visitor sire, an elf, cla-"  
  
"Legolas!?" Aragorn demanded, jumping to his feet, cutting the startled servant off mid sentence. "Is its Legolas?"  
  
"Nay Highness. Tis not the Prince Legolas." The servant replied. "Tis a she elf, and she claims to have an important message for you."  
  
Aragorn sat down, feeling more than a little crestfallen and ever so slightly foolish, "Ok," He mumbled, sounding precious little like the King he truly was. "Show her in."  
  
(You are being silly.) He admonished himself. (He will have sailed away by now. I wonder why this one hasn't gone also....)  
  
"Your highness." A lilting voice caught his attention and he turned to find himself starring into the face of an obviously young elf maiden, she had bright brown eyes and wavy blonde hair. "I must speak with thee sire."  
  
Aragorn nodded.  
  
"My name is Eylien, I am the daughter of Celithramir, man-servant to the elvish nobility. I bring the most urgent news, tis about the Prince Legolas Your Highness." As she spoke her honest brown eyes reflected her worry.  
  
Aragorn rose quickly to his feet.... Again. "Legolas? What of him? What news have you for me?" He demanded urgently. (Oh please..... he thought. Please do not let my ill feeling concern him.)  
  
Eylien looked into the Gondorian kings face and saw the urgency and worry in his eyes. She decided then that he truly did deserve to know. "He is dieing sire." She said quietly, bowing her head and placing a hand over her heart.  
  
All the colour drained from Aragorns face as he starred at the elf in front of him.  
  
"Dieing?" He asked quietly.  
  
She nodded, her eyes not meeting his. "I was sent by my father to inform you Sire, it has taken me three full days to reach here, I know not how he fares now, but he was failing fast when I left. We thought you would wish to know. Father said he had most likely seven days hence my departure to live, ten at the most, though he said that that was unlikely."  
  
Aragorn nodded, his face still pale. "You were right. What is it that ails him? I thought the elves could never grow ill? Did someone wound him? Does he require a physician?"  
  
"Nay sire, in a way he has been wounded but it is not a wound any physician could heal. Tis true he is not ill, but his heart ails him, grief has claimed it majesty, and it is that that causes him to leave this world."  
  
"Grief!" The shock on Aragorns face turned to absolute horror. "I did this to him...."  
  
Eylien stepped forward and placed a hand on the kings shoulder.  
  
"We do not lay the blame on your highness, I am merely a messenger. But maybe t'would be wise for you to journey to Mirkwood to at least see him, or pay your last respects if we arrive too late. And, if I may be so bold sire. I suggest you make this journey without the presence of your lady wife, for her presence may not help him sire.... No disrespect to the Evenstar..... But it is you alone who can be his salvation."  
  
Aragorn nodded at once. "No disrespect taken fair Lady. Yes. It shall be thus. Do you journey back now? If so I shall join you, if not I go alone."  
  
Eylien nodded. "I am journeying back Sire, I must return to my father. I shall retrieve my horse and await you in the courtyard. T'would be pleasant to have your company on the journey back."  
  
She stepped out of the room with a bow; as a courtesy while wearing trousers would have been strange.  
  
Aragorn flew from the room as if an army of Orcs were on his heels.  
  
He threw open the door to his room and ran straight past Arwen who had tried to halt him, and almost dove into the large wooden wardrobe, such was his hurry.  
  
He pulled out his plain Ranger garb, carefully put away, wrapped in a sheet of finest velvet so it would not be disposed of, and changed quickly into it. He was fastening the elven broach into the cloak when he was halted by a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Aragorn. What is it you are doing my love?"  
  
Aragorn looked down into the eyes of Arwen. They were dark and confused. Not at all like the eyes that he was fleeing to find.....  
  
He sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder. She did deserve an explanation, just as Legolas had.....  
  
"I must leave, I must journey to Mirkwood, alone, and at once."  
  
She stepped back from him looking mildly hurt.  
  
"What is it that is of such import that you can not take your wife with you?" she asked, her eyes narrowed slightly. He was behaving very strangely, and she did not like it. "Is it of such great danger to ones health?"  
  
"No.... there is no danger fair Arwen..... Not to my person nor to any who should accompany me at least. I must go though. I go..... to Legolas. He needs me."  
  
Aragorn looked to the side, expecting to be struck for running off to another; instead he felt a gentle push on his shoulder. And looked down to see Arwen facing him, looking downcast, yet determined, so different from the distrusting expression she had worn moments before.  
  
"Then go." She said quietly "For I know that if something awakens this haste in you it must be important."  
  
"Arwen...." He made to step back toward her but she shook her head, stepped forward and fastened the broach at his throat.  
  
"Nay, go to him, he needs you, I can feel as much. You will return if you can, that I know. Fare thee well. Oh. But before you do leave, send the elf maiden who brought the message up to me, I need to request something of her before you depart."  
  
With another slight push she sent Aragorn running from the room. He needed to do this, that she knew, and it would have been wrong for her to stop him.  
  
She knew what had taken place between the human and the elf Prince, and just because he had bound himself to her didn't give her the right to tie him down. Not when she knew his love would be forever bound to another, and that this other had been given that love long before the idea of joining with her had entered Aragorns mind.  
  
He had shared too much with Legolas for their lives to be torn so wholly apart.  
  
Arwen knew that in Aragorns eyes the blonde elven Prince would always out shine her. And in truth it had only been duty that had caused him to be hers at all. Still. She had news that would possibly ease the trouble this turn of events would cause.  
  
Carefully she settled down at her desk and began to write. This at least explained Aragorns despondent night time wanderings.  
  
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Down in the Courtyard, as she had promised, the elf Eylien awaited the King.  
  
As had been requested of him, Aragorn asked that the elf pay a visit to the Queen, which she did willingly.  
  
When she returned she swung elegantly onto the back of her grey horse and trotted out of the gate. There was a grim look on her face, but in her eyes a light burned that for some reason gave Aragorn some hope that the situation could be saved.  
  
When Aragorn finally caught up to her after tacking up his horse the pace increased.  
  
No words were necessary between the pair, even as the first day of the ride drew to a close. Each knew where they were going and company could do nothing to still the worries each held within them. The worry for an elven Prince, who may already lay dead.  
  
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As the second day of the journey dawned the weather turned bad. Large black clouds doused both Aragorn and Eylien with think sheets of heavy rain.  
  
When they stopped in a small damp cave to make camp for the night Eylien unwittingly prevented Aragorn from getting any rest. She starred off into the sky taking in the clouds and in elvish she began to murmur quietly to herself.  
  
"It has always been believed that the skies cry for innocent life lost."  
  
She herself didn't seem to realise the significance of the statement.  
  
As the red sun lit up the horizon the next morning Eylien and Aragorn rode on.  
  
The sun was high in the sky when, still many leagues ahead of them, elf and man were both in sight of the vast expanse of trees that was Mirkwood.  
  
On they rode, as if all the hordes of Moria and the forces from within the very gates of Hell were on their heels.  
  
Half a day more, and their Hell-driven pace would bring them to the edge of the vast wood.  
  
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Well, there was chapter four....  
  
I hope it was okay, I have been so paranoid about it that I spent ages checking and rechecking and changing it....  
  
Well, reviews are hugged and kissed, and are always muchly appreciated, but only if ya want to, hope to see you all soon my dear readers!!  
  
Lora Helen. 


	5. Sunkist Day

Okaaaaay.... Lora Helen here again, after another period of horrific writers block I was able to rattle this off.... To be frank. I hate it. Its not a good chapter and to me it sounds very forced, but well, I leave that up to you in the end. It continues the story, and well, all I can say is that I hope the next chapter come easier.... If it hadn't been for all you wonderful ppl helping to push me on with reviews I think this story would have died at this chapter.... Seeing as the file containing all that I had written mysteriously vanished.... So.... Yeah... I kind of lost hope, but you guys are so great.... And I'm now trying to catch up with where this story was going.  
  
This chapter.... May be a little controversial, if that is the right word, I am not sure how you guys will like it, and if you do not, please let m know and I will try and re do it, because, as I said, I had no spirit for writing when I did this, so if it needs re-doing, PLEASE let me know.... Thanks.  
  
Again though, you can have no idea how much your reviews have done to save my ramblings.  
  
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So now, without further ado, I give you chapter 5. Sunkist day.  
  
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The sun was high in the sky when, still many leagues ahead of them, elf and man were both in sight of the vast expanse of trees that was Mirkwood.  
  
On they rode.  
  
Half a day more, and their Hell-driven pace would bring them to the edge of the vast wood.  
  
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On the morning of the sixth day since his daughter had left, Celithramir awoke with the dawn.  
  
He went around the woodland fort as he did every day, and made sure all was well and in its place. The silence from the princes room assured him that the Prince was in no pain, no matter his state.  
  
As the sun reached its apex, he walked slowly down the wood panelled corridor, and tapped gently on the door of the Princes apartment.  
  
There was no reply, but he hadn't expected one.  
  
Quietly he opened the door, in case the prince was still sleeping, but his care was not necessary.  
  
The Prince lay as usual in his bed, his gaze trained on the window. His face bleak.  
  
Celithramir stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, he then proceeded to tidy and clean as he would have done had the Prince been active.  
  
He was about to leave and fetch the something to break his masters fast, when a quiet voice held him back. For the first time in three days, his master was speaking.  
  
"I awoke to quite a sight this morning." The young elf murmured, his eyes still focussed on the window.  
  
Celithramir moved so that he was standing by the end of the Princes bed. This movement caused the Princes gaze to fall on him, and, as each time it happened, Celithramir was forced to quell the wish to weep for his master.  
  
The change that had come upon Legolas was remarkable, by no means good, but remarkable still. He had the countenance of either a man so old and frail that he should need more than a cane to support him, or a babe so young that it should not yet have left the safety of its mothers womb.  
  
He no longer, in colour at least, resembled the Prince at all.  
  
The thick and lustrous curtain of golden highlighted blonde, that had been the Princes hair, had not decreased in lustre or volume, but it had changed beyond all possible recognition. It was not longer gold streaked blonde. But instead it was silver streaked white.  
  
His skin now had an almost translucent quality to it, giving his whole countenance a look of delicate frailty, such as is possessed by a young spring flower, a dew dusted spiders web or a flake of the finest snow.  
  
His figure, now wasted in appearance, was also frail, delicate as his skin, and very slight. The strength that it had possessed upon his return from the Quest of the Ring had all but vanished. Leaving him a mere shadow of what once he was, but no less beautiful. Because, it is true that even shades can be beautiful.  
  
For though he had the hair and frailty of one aged through many winters, there was not a line on his still trusting and honest face, it was as though he had refused the encroachment of age a hold on him, in the hope that indeed, he would still be saved and not dammed to his fate.  
  
His eyes, perhaps, bore the starkest change; for they no longer shone with a sapphire glow that reflected their owners love of life and the world around him, but instead were as dull as a cloud laden, heavy as lead, with rain.  
  
Rain that would have been the tears the Prince could no longer cry, or maybe a more just way of stating it would be; Tears the Prince no longer cared to cry.  
  
As Celithramir stood and surveyed his Prince, waiting for him to continue, he could think of no one that deserved this fate, this ageless age, less than his own dear master.  
  
"Yes. Quite a sight." The Prince murmured again. "If I knew any longer of the true meaning of the word I should have called it beautiful. And if I knew of whom or what I thought of, I should have said it drew my mind back to a day spent with one I loved. It darkens the world to me that I can no longer feel or remember these things."  
  
Celithramir nodded, mutely grieving his masters despondency and despair. "What did your highness see that could have moved you so greatly at this time?" He asked quietly, knowing that this may indeed be his masters final day.  
  
The progression of his failing had been swifter than even Celithramir had thought possible. A mere six days had driven all strength from the stricken elf. If he no longer knew of beauty and love then his life could no longer hold any meaning to him.  
  
"When I opened my eyes...." He murmured, his gaze once more falling on the window. "The sun had not yet kissed the tree tops, and this chamber was in darkness. But, as I lay here, a fine amber glow did creep up the trunk of that young birch yonder.... And soon it was colouring also these very walls that surround me with its amber light."  
  
He shifted slightly, fighting to raise himself into a more comfortable position. Celithramir moved at once to help him, and, as he settled his Prince back against the pillows, the dull grey eyes turned once more to him, wearing a questioning look, as if the prince were trying to recall the name of this person who had so suddenly rushed to his aide.  
  
Legolas sighed. "I suppose it matters not that I do not recall your face. Yet, I am sure I knew and loved you once.... At least I believe that is the word....."  
  
Celithramir nodded, a tear on his cheek, he drew back and affirmed that it was indeed the case.  
  
"I have been in your service since the day you entered this world. You cared for me as an uncle once.... And I you as a nephew."  
  
The Prince nodded and continued to speak of his morning in a murmur. "Soon, though it may have been hours.... For the time I really do not know.... The light reached the highest point of that wall yonder."  
  
He gestured to the wall on his left.  
  
"As it began to brush the ceiling beams it changed, and a green glow filled the entire room, not just the walls but the floor the bed.... Everything. And it called to me, of something in a time passed now, I felt.... In here....."  
  
He pressed a hand to his heart.  
  
"That I knew it. But yet.... As is now to oft the case, I did not understand."  
  
Legolas looked saddened, and Celithramir was about to speak, about to try and offer some words of comfort, when the Prince halted him by continuing himself.  
  
"But now, today. I understand one thing....."  
  
Dreading the answer Celithramir asked. "What my Prince. What have you know an understanding of?"  
  
"That my life is over." Came the sad reply. "That I shall not live to see that sight again. That is why it was gifted to me, that my spirit may carry it forever as it runs with those of the trees. Today. Is my final day."  
  
"No Prince Legolas. No! Do not say such things. You can not know this to be the case."  
  
Legolas shook his head; his long white and silver hair glinting in the sun, and, for the moment at least, he seemed his old self, in mind and understanding at least, if not at all in spirit. "I do. I fear I know this too well. I can feel better now than before how empty I have become, My heart no longer knows how to love, though I still know the word, and my soul..... I can feel it fading.... The twilight of this day shall be the twilight of my life."  
  
Celithramir bowed his head. Objections quelled by the earnestness in the Princes voice.  
  
"I ask of you one favour.... For I perceive you were once my friend."  
  
"Anything my Prince."  
  
"Do not let me pass away within these walls. I ask of you that you aid me in finding my rest outside, in my Beloved Mirkwood. For I know in the final recesses of my heart, I hold love still for the tress and one other..... Though I have tragically forgotten their name."  
  
"Aragorn, My Prince." Celithramir supplied.  
  
"Yes." Legolas said, with a wistful smile. "That is indeed the name..... I thank you for recalling it to me. But, I must know. Will you help me out of doors as the day fades?"  
  
Celithramir nodded. "Yes my Prince, I shall aide you, for it should be my last wish also."  
  
"Thank you kind sir. Now, please. Leave me with my thoughts until that time. I wish to try and regain at least something of what I have lost."  
  
"Of course my Prince." Celithramir said with a bow. "I shall prepare for you a spot in the open air sire, yet still among the trees, and I shall come hither and the beginning of the dipping of the sun. Till then sire."  
  
Celithramir turned on his heel and hurried from the room.  
  
He knew the place he would prepare for the Prince.  
  
Each time a son or daughter was born to an elven family in Mirk Wood, a tree was planted to celebrate the beginning of a new life, and, in the rare event of an elf passing from the land of the living to the halls of the dead, the body would be committed to the earth at the foot of the tree planted there to commemorate the beginning of their life.  
  
And thus, in the way of nature, the elf would become one with their tree. Life and death would become one.  
  
That would be where he would let the Prince end his life, by the very tree that was set to commemorate its commencement, over two thousand years before.  
  
Before going out into the wood, the elf gathered together a selection of blankets and a cushion, for even in summer as it was, the Prince all to easily felt the cold, and, Celithramir decided, it would never do for him to end his days in discomfort.  
  
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Well, if you are reading this it means you got through the horribly forced writings of ME and well, I commend you.... for I really do think I should re- do this. But I couldn't bear to keep you guys waiting any longer....  
  
Well, let me know what you think if its not too much trouble, and most defiantly let me know if I should re do this....  
  
Thanks for taking the time to read and I hope to see you soon!  
  
Lora Helen 


	6. Moonlit Night

I'm a bad, bad, bad, bad, BAD person... and I'm very sorry.... I should know better than to make you all wait like this, but I have had NO inspiration to write this.... or any of my stories.... I am so sorry guys.... I feel so bad now....  
  
Thank you sooooooo much to all my fantastic reviewers.. I adore you all so so SO much.. And like I said.. I feel so so so bad....  
  
Well.... This is chapter 6, I hope its up to scratch.... it took a long time to happen.... It STARTED well.... And then I couldn't finish it.... Sowwy.... But it IS done now.  
  
Elis.. This is for you darlin!! I hope you like!  
  
Well, I can't think of much to babble about today, so, without further ado, her is chapter six.  
  
Moonlit Night.  
  
True to his word, Celithramir returned to the Princes apartment just as the sun was beginning to dip behind the tops of the tall trees of Mirkwood.  
  
Upon entering the room, Celithramir settled on the bed, and, for a heart stopping moment he feared he had arrived too late, for the princes eyes were closed to the world, and nothing about him appeared to stir.  
  
"My Prince! Prince Legolas!" The brown haired elf cried out in alarm. "My Prince, please, awaken, tis time!"  
  
To Celithramirs sheer relief the leaden grey eyes opened, and turned to rest upon him.  
  
"You are come my friend." Murmured the Prince, "Time has flown has it not?"  
  
"Aye my Prince, it has, The Lord of the day is slipping now from our sight, and the graceful lady of the night is already fairly high in the sky herself, and nigh on full. Tis a glorious night sire." Celithramir carefully hid the sad undertone to his voice, his princes passing would be easy, and he would not let any further grief cast its shadow upon him in this lifetime.  
  
"And have you a place for me?" Questioned Legolas, shifting position slightly, a sorrowful look in his eyes. "For, though it was my home for years, this place now awakens an abject fear in me, I do not wish to be confined. It is claustrophobic..... I fear remaining here forever."  
  
"Fear not my prince." Celithramir said as he moved to the princes side. "I have a place for you. And soft down cushions and a blanket. Tis a chill night sire, beauty aside it is chill."  
  
"That effort was not necessary my friend, but I thank you. I feel more myself that I have done at all these past days, I feel I shall appreciate your thoughtfulness all the more."  
  
"Why sire that is wonderful news!" Celithramir exclaimed. "Could it not be that you are recovering?"  
  
Legolas shook his head sadly. "Nay my friend. That is, I am sad to say, not going to be the case. The reason for my clarity of mind is, I feel, the fact I have finally accepted what I am to face. The fact I am to die."  
  
Celithramir looked shocked. "But Sire. You said long ago you accepted the situation, was that a falsity?"  
  
"Nay my friend." Legolas replied with a slight frown. "It was not, I have long since accepted the situation, but it is only in these last few hours that I have accepted the out come, and with acceptance came clarity of mind. I never truly thought in my heart that I would die. But now I realise that there is no other fate left for me."  
  
"Then what, My prince, did you believe before?"  
  
"That my love would come to me and save me. In my heart I could not bring myself to doubt him."  
  
Celithramir looked to his feet. "I am truly sorry sire."  
  
Legolas laughed quietly. "Nay. Be not sorry. Not for me. I have spent far too long feeling sorry for myself, now come, help me from this bed, I wish to be out of this prison."  
  
Celithramir moved to his Princes side and lifted him from the bed, setting him gently on his feet.  
  
Then, allowing the Prince to gain support form his arm, the two walked together form the woodland fort and out into the moonlight.  
  
As they walked, Celithramir studied the Prince.  
  
He looked tired now, far more so than he had earlier that morning, his eyes were even duller, and his footsteps were heavy.  
  
"Every minute I expected him to come bursting through the doors to save me.... You know that friend. I never truly thought he would abandon me...."  
  
"Hush Prince." Celithramir murmured, tears beginning to form in his eyes. "Hush....."  
  
In his heart, the dark haired elf wanted nothing more than to tell the prince about his daughters quest, and give him the hope in his failing heart that would possibly help him to cling to life for a day or two longer, but despite this want, he simply couldn't bring himself to do it.  
  
What if his daughters' plea had fallen on deaf ears?  
  
He really couldn't see the king being a monster, but it was clear he didn't love the Elvin Prince in the passionate way the Prince loved him.... so maybe he had chosen not to come.... He couldn't bare it if words of hope that he gave the Prince to cling to proved to be falsities, so he held his tongue.  
  
Before long, and with sunlight still remaining, the short walk was complete, and the Prince and his manservant stepped from the trees into a large clearing.  
  
In the clearing, the trees planted to commemorate the Royal family of the elves grew, and amongst them was Legolas'  
  
It was by no means that the trees of the kings of elves and their families had been set apart from the trees of their subjects, more that the tees of their subjects grew around them, just as it was in the society that had lived in the glorious world of Mirkwood.  
  
With great care, Celithramir set the fading Prince down on the cushions that he had placed by the foot of the tree that represented his life. Once sure that his charge was settled in a comfortable fashion, he proceeded to tuck a blanket around the slim shoulders, that task completed, and thus reassured that the Prince would not feel the nights chill, nor the hard earth of the forest floor, he settled himself down nearby, to wait through the last few moments at his masters side.  
  
The pair had been sitting but a short while, when Celithramir heard the Prince speak, his voice now barely a whisper as the sun began to slip behind the horizon, visible only in slits through the trunks of the great trees.  
  
"You were right.... My friend. It is a beautiful night."  
  
Celithramir smiled. In himself, despite the sorrow he was feeling at their imminent parting he was glad he had chosen to stay by the Princes side. He would have chosen no other path if given the chance to do so.  
  
The moon was now at her own apex, high in the sky and was casting her gentle rays down on the pair in the clearing. Even with his sadly faded complexion, the moonlight still complimented the Prince' looks, perhaps more than the more dazzling light of the sun.  
  
Time dragged on, and Celithramir could hear the Princes already shallow breathing quieten even more. Soon it was hard to hear, even in the quiet of the night.  
  
Finally the last rays of sunlight gave up their defence and the clearing was given solely over to the care of the moon as the sun slipped out of sight at last, its rays lost to sight.  
  
Legolas briefly raised his head a look of sadness and fear on his face, and turned his eyes to the sky. "Save me....." he murmured, as his eyes slipped closed and his head fell forward to his chest, and a final breath parted his lips.  
  
"NO LEGOLAS!! NO!!" A cry of terror as a figure burst through the trees at the very edge of the clearing.  
  
Celithramir, startled, jumped to his feet, only to be pushed aside and inadvertently flung to the ground by the newcomer.  
  
The final flight into the woods was a blur for the pair of them, the speed of the grasslands whirling past the gave away the fact they both rode their horses as fast as they may.  
  
By the time they had entered the woodland, and been forced to slow their pace, the sun had almost vanished behind the horizon, and by the time they reached the woodland fort of the Mirkwood elves, there were scant minutes of daylight remaining.  
  
Eylien had gone inside upon their arrival, to state the success of her errand to her father, and find out the condition of the prince, thus leaving Aragorn to stand without, awaiting her.  
  
He had settled back against the shoulder of his mount when running footsteps awoke in him a sense of unease. This misgiving was proven justified when seconds later Eylien ran up to him, her eyes a little wide and her face pale.  
  
"Sire! They are not within! That can mean one of two thing! Either we are too late and Father is burying your Prince, or they are out here in the wood somewhere. I doubt the first, father would wait."  
  
Aragorn swore. "Out in the wood say you? But this Forrest is immense, how shall we ever hope to find them?"  
  
"I know not sire, but I fear if we do not find them soon twill be too late.... I have a leaden weight in my breast that causes me to believe this...."  
  
Aragorn began to tremble. His Prince, his Legolas, dieing.... And there seemed no way for him to find him, even to say goodbye.... But..... No..... He mustn't give up..... He hadn't come all this way just to find his prince dead.  
  
"Lady..... Please....." he implored, "Can you but think of some place they may have gone, I cannot stand here and be idle..... I must seek him out, I simply must.... he must not die before I see him..... Please....."  
  
The she elf looked thoughtful for but a second "There is, sire, one place I feel they may have gone. The royal glade..... Follow me! Come hither come hither!"  
  
And with that she was off, the speed and grace of the elves helping her flit between the trees. Aragorn followed her, nearly as swift himself. His speed and grace was derived perhaps, from fear for the Elvin Prince he had yet to find, though his years with the race themselves must have helped greatly as well.  
  
The flight through the trees was swift; the only sound aside from their feet that reached Aragorns senses was the thumping of his own heart. The dash ended when ahead of him Eylien stopped. He halted beside her, peering through a gap between two of the tight knit trees.  
  
What he saw before him fist made his chest tighten, and then pushed him to action.  
  
Seated on a pile of cushions and wrapped in a blanket, was the much changed, yet still lovely vision that was Legolas. His hair was white as snow, and his frame, still discernable even under the blanket was slight.  
  
Aragorn stood, transfixed.  
  
But not for long.  
  
As the sun finally lost all influence in the clearing, he saw Legolas lift his head, and look to the sky with dull grey eyes.  
  
"Save me....." Aragorn heard him murmur, and then watched in horror as the dull eyes closed and the elegant head fell forward.  
  
He could not still the cry of terror wrenched from him as he ran out through the trees and into another figure in his haste to reach Legolas.  
  
"NO LEGOLAS!! NO!!"  
  
Erk.... What do you think? I think I might be losing my touch with this story.... I really do... this chapter wasn't so forced as the last.. but.. It seems rather disjointed to me.. and 5-6 read throughs refuses to help me sort it out....  
  
Ah well, I complain too much.... I really hope you enjoyed it ppl.... I'll try and get the next chapter to ya soon..  
  
OH!! Wait.. PLEASE read this bit....  
  
I've had this idea for two separate endings.. And.. Seeing as I can't work out which one I wanna use, do you ppl mind if I type them both up? Or would you prefer just the one? I mean, there is no obligation to read either but, well, I wanna know what you'd all prefer... this story is kind of for you guys now anyway.... Heh...  
  
So, let me know yeah? Send an e-mail, or, if you wanna review tack it onto that... thank you SO much.. You guys are the best!!!  
  
Luv to all!!  
  
Lora Helen 


	7. My Dearest Love

**OH MY GOD! I have finally finished this story. I chose an ending. And I wrote it. I am happy. My next Lord of the rings fic may come along quite soon!**

**Save Me**

**My Dearest Love. **

With speed in his legs that he didn't know he had, Aragorn ran forth, and seized the still body of the prince from the dark haired elf, and, falling to his knees, he cradled him as if he were a fragile babe.

The princes' eyes were closed, and his expression was peaceful once more. There were silvery tears running down his cheeks, but they were not his own, they were the tears of the man who had been his lover in life, and who now mourned him in death.

"Dear Heart…" the words almost caught in the king's throat as he bowed his head over the still form of the pale prince "I am so sorry… I thought you gone or… or I would have sought you out, if only I had explained, oh my love my dear love I wish I had had the courage to explain."

He curled the elf against him and buried his face in the soft silver hair, crying as brokenly as a small child who has lost its mother.

After a time and with resignation he settled the still body of the prince down on the cushions, carefully brushed the shining hair away from his face and pressed a final, very delicate kiss to the princes cool lips. "Farewell my dearest love. I will see you when darkness finally claims my life."

Gazing down at the princes' face for a few moments, he felt one final tear roll down his cheek and watched with awe as it dropped down onto the face of the elf.

Shaking his head slightly, he got to his feet "He will be buried here." He murmured quietly "And my heart will go with him, fare-thee-well prince of Mirkwood. I am sorry that I let you down so totally."

The time that Aragorn spent in Mirkwood was short, he stayed to see the prince buried, and then, with a heart so heavy as to have been made of lead, he began his journey back to Gondor.

The first few weeks after the princes' death he spent in relative seclusion, not even Arwen's presence would be tolerated, and it seemed that this new manner in the king would go on for ever, even after Arwen divulged that she would in some months time bear him a son, he still remained chill and callous.

But one day it changed, or rather, more accurately, one night.

It was six months exactly since the death of the elven prince of Mirkwood, and Aragorn had chosen to spend the night in the grounds, the one place in which he could imagine he was not trapped within the palace walls.

He had just made his way down to the small pool, when half a year before he had stood and remembered in detail the lover he had now lost, and once again this night the memories came to him, so clear that when he saw the moon reflected in the clear waters of the pool, the shape of the lady of the night seemed in fact to shift, and morph into the face of the much beloved prince who had moved on to a better world.

Aragorn had to shiver at the intensity of his memory, and cast his eyes about him as he did so, for in some strange way it felt that at this moment he wasn't actually as alone as he thought. It was unnerving.

"Aragorn." He spun around, expecting to see something behind him, but he couldn't see anything. The voice had been wispy…

"The wind." He said aloud to himself "You're imagining things."

"Aragorn… Aragorn…" Twice again he heard his name called, and though he searched futilely about him, he could still see nothing, no-one. He was alone but…

"I am here Aragorn. You have called out for in your sleep so many times… but I have never left you my beloved…"

Aragorn's breath caught as he felt something cold touch his cheek and his eyes widened as he saw a faint silvery hand withdraw from his face.

"Legolas…" he murmured… "But how…?"

"I cannot move on with out you letting go my love." The voice was still quiet "But even then I think I would not go."

He could see more now, the faint outline of a figure, a face, eyes nose and lips, those beautiful lips… "Why?" his voice was little more than a croak.

"Because I will wait for you. I will always wait for you." The translucent form embraced Aragorn, but he could barely feel it, there was only cold.

"I'm sorry Legolas." He murmured quietly "I'm sorry I didn't come and save you."

"I know. I can't continue his for very long. It is difficult. You must promise me something Aragorn."

"Yes?" he could manage no more, the emotions running though him stole his words.

"Stop blaming Arwen and yourself. You will soon have a son. You must look after him. I will always be with you. And you will join me again when your time has come. Any sooner and you will not. Do you understand?" his form grew a little fainter.

"I do." Aragorn murmured "Fear not, I will not end my life. Especially not now."

Legolas nodded, and Aragorn felt a chill kiss being placed on his lips. "Beloved, I will see you again."

With that the shade of the prince was gone. And Aragorn was changed. He would honour the elf's wishes.

The small procession wound its way slowly into the depths of Mirkwood, the ancient strong hold of the elves. The tree's still offered the same light green roof and still allowed the green summer light to filter through to the ground as the spirits of the ancient trees whispered softly to the travellers who bore through them the heavy load.

There were tears from the small crowd as the casket was lowered into the deep hole that had been dug into the ground at the foot of a two-thousand year old tree, a very short distance from a mound that was now covered in lush summer grass.

As the new hole was filled in, a young man strode forward, a heavy gold crown on is head, and pressed a large stone slab into the supple earth.

"Rest in Peace" The youth read "Aragorn Son of Arathorn. In this your final resting place, as you requested, by the Side of Legolas, The Prince of Mirkwood."

He stepped back and brushed his head back from his eyes "I will look after Gondor Father, and Mother, I promise you this."

The small party stayed a while beside the two graves, the fresh and marked grave of the King of Gondor, and the older, unmarked grave of his truest love, the elegant Prince of Mirkwood. Legolas Greenleaf.

As the day became night, and the gentle light of the lady moon replaced that of the lord of the day, two silvery figures took their places between the two graves, and embraced in the moonlight

"My love…" the taller, long haired one murmured, leaning against the other "You have returned to me."

"I have." The other stated, with a smile "And now, we truly will be together forever. Loved in life, loved in death."

"Yes." Was the sighed reply "Forever."

They kissed then, the kiss they had been denied by a death that had come too soon, and their shades began to fade, together they finally made their way to the world beyond, where they would be able to stay with each other until the end of the mortal world, and beyond.

**The End. **

**Thank you for sticking with me. I hope you have enjoyed this story. **


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